


Passage

by DimensionSlip



Series: Räven och Slottet [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 21:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DimensionSlip/pseuds/DimensionSlip
Summary: 1978, Wizarding Britain. A child is put on trial for murder.





	Passage

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Ireliss and Jeredu for beta-reading. More information on this AU can be found [over here](http://jeredu.tumblr.com/tagged/au%3A-what-sorcery-is-this/chrono)!
> 
> Update: Now with an illustration by Jeredu!

Jade doesn't resist when the Ministry comes and takes him away from Hogwarts.

It isn't his quick thinking deserting him as much as his mind blanking out when they take his glasses and blindfold him, and place him in handcuffs that feel way more magical than their Muggle counterparts, then whisk him away through Side-Along Apparition once they're away from the school grounds. Vaguely, he remembers the men in hooded robes taking off the handcuffs and replacing them with equally magical bindings that snake over his wrists and bind them securely behind his back, leaving little room for movement. Somehow, he feels that even if he were inclined to turn into his fox form to escape, he would be regretting it sooner rather than later given how the ropes seem to have been charmed to react to the slightest bit of magic.

Some part of him thinks that this isn't how suspects awaiting trial are treated, but it's a thought he sets aside as they seem to descend down certain stairs, concentrating on not tripping over his feet as they nudge him downwards. They remove his blindfold once they reach the bottom of the stairs, not that it makes any difference given the dim lighting afforded by the wands of his captors. He isn't given much time to adjust his eyes to the lights, for they don't waste time in binding his ankles as well and unceremoniously pushing him into what he thinks to be a holding cell of a kind, if the earlier telltale creak of a rusted gate is anything to go by. Jade's certain he's bruised a hip when he trips and lands on his side. But he welcomes the pain and discomfort--it gives him something to focus on instead of his thoughts, which were running a mile a minute in a direction he's too tired to pursue.

* * *

He doesn't know how long he's been out on the cold, stone floor, but whatever the case might be, Jade is roused by an equally cool splash of water to his face, causing him to sit upright almost immediately, shoulders tense, eyes wide and alert as he reflexively assesses the threat before him. He would've stood up and drawn his wand, however, he isn't afforded the luxury by virtue of the ropes that keep his feet bound, and the fact that he's no longer sure where his wand might be in the first place.

"How's our little murderer doing?"

Another occasion and person, he would've thrown back a quip or craftily worded denial at the jeer, but his remembrance of the situation he's in causes him to deflate. This is different from dealing with the bullies around school, or a wayward peer that thought it might be a good idea to diss him to his face. He's bound and wandless at the moment, and while one or the other is enough for him to reconsider anything risky, the combination of the two and the fact that the person's voice sounded disguised is enough for him to freeze. There may not have been much to see given that anything the lantern illuminates is for the clear benefit of its holder, but Jade doesn't need to see what he imagines to be a twisted smile on the man's face to know that whatever this man meant to do, it isn't with Jade's well-being in mind. Disguised as his voice might be, the man's intent clearly shines through, and it's with this in mind that, despite his disinclination towards showing signs of weakness, Jade finds himself inching the tiniest bit backwards, heels scraping against the floor in an attempt to find what little purchase he can against it.

"So you don't deny it, hmm?"

At Jade's silence, the door to his cell creaks open and the sound of footsteps draws near. He squints at the faint light that fills the room, attempting to make out any distinguishing features of the place or of the person before him. The lantern is left by the entrance, it seems, and the man's cloak is similar to the ones worn by the people who took him away that afternoon--or was it a day ago? He couldn't quite tell, but he isn't left much time to dwell on that when the man delivers a kick to his ribs. A groan escapes him and Jade unintentionally bites down on his lip, drawing blood when he's sent crashing back to the floor. He coughs as he attempts to raise his head and bring himself back on his feet, only to be saved the expedient of doing so when the man cups his chin and drags him forward, grip tight enough to bruise.

"Kids like you are a stain on the wizarding world," he whispers into Jade's ear, "and for the good of everyone, you should be erased."

He lets go of Jade and shoves him backwards, causing him to land awkwardly on his shoulder. He doesn't think he broke anything, but all the same, it'll take a few nights for him to be comfortable lying down on it again.

...That is, if the cloaked man doesn't persist with this line of thought. Whatever this thought was--Jade isn't too sure if this is customary with lines of questioning before his supposed trial, though he supposes it isn't unheard of for people to make use of their authority in this manner.

"Unfortunately, it's not soon enough."

A sigh escapes the man as he flicks his wand. A tray of food floats into the cell and stops in front of Jade, to which he averts his gaze from, distaste evident in his expression. He doubts they would be untying him for the occasion, but more than that is the fact that regardless of their decision on the matter, he's not about to accept any sort of food or drink item from them.

"But no matter," the man continues plainly, as if not noticing Jade's reaction to the bread and glass of water before him, "patience certainly is a virtue, and you'll be punished eventually."

With a swish of his cloak, the sound of footsteps begins once more and ebbs away, and Jade's left with his thoughts again, sucking in a painful breath and suppressing a shiver as he wonders what's to become of him.

He won't admit it to anyone, but that very moment in this freezing excuse of a cell, a dull ache in his chest throbs, and he's never felt more alone and lost in his life. Especially now that the Professor is gone, and the fact that it's all his fault to begin with.

* * *

The next day--or what he thinks to be it--is brighter than the last. Literally so, when light floods his cell and he's forced to his feet, unmindful of the minor injuries he sustained not too long ago as the ropes binding his ankles are cut free. If they noticed anything about his untouched tray of food, they say nothing of it. The blindfold is placed around his eyes once more, and he suppresses a cringe when someone grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him forward, trying not to stumble over his feet as he wills his body to remember how to use his legs.

Once he's out of the underground, the bindings around his wrists are exchanged in favor of the handcuffs. Water is forced down his throat, and he sputters as he tries to keep himself from swallowing, but to no avail as they keep his mouth pressed against the cup, compelling him to drink lest he choke on the concoction, which he strongly suspects to have Veritaserum mixed into it. A comb is roughly run through his hair and dittany's applied on his injuries--notably the ones that would be visible otherwise, he can't help but note with some morbid amusement. It still hurts to breathe especially after he had almost choked on his drink, but not as badly as it did a good few hours back, though in part Jade thinks that may have been partially due to the stale air around the place where he was kept.

He only gets his glasses back when they drag him outside to what he theorizes to be a place outside the apparition wards of the structure they came out of. But whether or not that's true is something Jade isn't left much time to verify, for as soon as the blindfold is removed and his glasses are shoved on his face, he's forced into another Side-Along Apparition--one which lands them outside the entrance of a building he would later come to know as the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

"Having a trial without me present?"

Dumbledore's smile is affable as he enters the court, but anyone who has some inkling of self-preservation would've felt the underlying chill beneath it and would find it in their best interests to back down as he sweeps through the aisles to where the Wizengamot is seated. In contrast to the others in court, Jade's expression continues to be level as he watches him take his place, much to the reluctance of Corbin Yaxley, the presiding prosecutor for his trial.

"It wasn't worthy of your much coveted attention, Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore."

That earns a raised brow from Dumbledore. "And yet a third of the Wizengamot is present?"

"It's still a highly important and delicate Ministry matter."

"Which doesn't require my input?"

"There wasn't enough time." Despite how unexpected Dumbledore's appearance seems to be to Yaxley, he does seem to have enough excuses prepared for the occasion. "The boy is dangerous and we have enough reason to believe that he's guilty of the crime he's being accused of."

"Dangerous?" Dumbledore is back to smiling serenely, blue-eyed gaze falling on Jade, who meets it with equal calm. "Mr. Curtiss's record has been nothing but spotless since he's entered Hogwarts. And his teachers speak nothing but highly of his abilities, and speak of him as one of the most promising wizards of his time."

"That is precisely _why_ we are concerned." Yaxley's tone is patronizing, as if explaining a very simple concept to a toddler. "He's very much capable of killing Ms. Gelda Nebilim in the manner described."

"Perhaps like the person you answer to?"

A deafening silence falls upon the hall, and for a moment, Jade's confused as to what it may mean. At least until a certain realization dawns upon him, which draws nothing but a muted sigh from him. It seems a little surreal to think of this whole mess as something undoubtedly more political, but it's not like he could discount that idea either, especially with what he's been through.

Dumbledore chuckles, but no one laughs with him, silence still reigning over the courtroom. "That aside, isn't it a bit too much to have Mr. Curtiss in chains as he is right now? I doubt a boy like him could harm as much as a fly given his current condition."

Yaxley opens his mouth as if to argue, but decides the better of it. A tap of his wand later, the chains binding Jade crumple to the ground, leaving him to rub at his wrists absently. He regrets it a moment later, barely keeping down a wince at the rope burns that haven't quite healed yet.

"He's already confessed to the crime. There's nothing else to discuss."

"Is this true, Mr. Curtiss?"

Again, blue eyes bore into his, and Jade has to resist the urge to balk visibly at what he feels to be someone skimming the surface of his mind. Tired as he was, it's second nature for him to bring up his Occlumency shields, thankfully keeping the intruder out.

"...All I said was that it's my fault, Professor," he says slowly, trying to keep the wariness off his tone. It wasn't like he could lie completely anyway, given the Veritaserum laced in his forced drink from earlier. Nor was he inclined to do so in the first place, given that this is still a court of law, kangaroo as it is.

"Could you tell us the whole story?" Dumbledore asks, straight-faced as if he didn't just attempt Legilimency on him.

It's a struggle, but for the second time that day, Jade takes a deep breath and recounts the incident. How he's heard from a drunk Hagrid that a certain Acromantula has deserted its colony in the Forbidden Forest. And of how he's sneaked out of the castle and into the place where he determined the creature could be found and possibly killed as an exercise of some of his more recent spellwork. Then Professor Nebilim arriving in the nick of time to save him from getting overwhelmed by the colony of Acromantulas that have come to the rescue of its wayward kin, only for her to die in the process. He leaves off the part about his escape in fox form, slightly relieved that his minor resistance to the Veritaserum isn't all for naught.

Dumbledore listens to his story in silence, nodding as he tapers off with his declaration of fault.

"There's a difference between a child acknowledging their responsibility in the matter, and a child willingly partaking in cold-blooded murder. Are you telling me that Mr. Curtiss is the latter?"

There's something sadly admonishing about the look he gives the council, as if they are children caught with a hand in the proverbial cookie jar, and Dumbledore is the disappointed parent who has expected better out of them.

"That is the cleverly worded story of a filthy child who has charmed you with that forked tongue of his." Not to be cowed by Dumbledore's gaze, which turns sharper at those words, Yaxley speaks up, meeting the challenge head on. However, instead of addressing Dumbledore, he faces the rest of the jury, determined to make a certain point. "I don't know what kind of environment he's been coddled with back in Hogwarts, but this is a court of law, not a playground."

Murmurs of assent rise among the crowd, earning a triumphant grin from Yaxley. However, Dumbledore turning towards them with a very serious expression causes a hushed silence to fall over the Wizengamot.

"Mr. Curtiss has told us his story in a line of detail that not only incriminates him, but also notably has not made any move to defend himself from your accusations. As such, I don't see any reason for him to lie." Calm as he is, Dumbledore's tone takes a more dangerous undercurrent as he continues, "In fact, I'd almost venture to say that he _can't_."

Even with the precarious situation he's in, Jade couldn't help but be a tiny bit amused at how Yaxley visibly blanches at the implication of those words. It seems that Dumbledore is aware of the Veritaserum he's drank, though it's a realization that tempers his amusement with worry, for he doesn't know if Dumbledore managed to acquire that piece of information by observing him or through his earlier attempted trip through his mind.

Several moments of silence later, Dumbledore claps his together, an amiable smile on his face.

"I suppose there is nothing else to discuss. Let's put everything to a vote now, shall we?"

He nods towards Yaxley, who looks somewhat surprised at being addressed, but is quick to regain his bearings and address the court.

"Those in favor of clearing the defendant of all charges?"

After a lengthy pause, hands are raised, spanning a surprising majority of the jury.

"Those in favor of conviction?"

Yaxley raises his hand, among a handful of others.

"...Very well." Yaxley says as he lowers his hand, clearly displeased with this turn of events. "Jade Curtiss is cleared of all charges. However..."

He glares pointedly at Dumbledore. "...I believe he should still be punished for his flagrant disregard of the rules you've so dutifully imposed."

"But of course." Dumbledore nods. "Mr. Curtiss still has violated a few important school rules, and will be sanctioned accordingly. However, that is no longer within the scope of this trial, and will be dealt with at our discretion. Now, if you'll excuse us..."

He nods towards Jade, who takes it as a sign that he's dismissed. Rising numbly from his seat, he follows Dumbledore out the door with leaden legs. Even if there's no longer any physical chains holding him down, his thoughts from the past few days continue to be shackles that weigh heavily in his mind, especially now that he has the questionable opportunity to entertain them again.

* * *

The next day is a Saturday, and Professor Slughorn is nothing but sympathetic smiles and pats on the back when Jade asks to borrow an empty Potions classroom to brew a few potions of his own. Jade's purpose is two-fold--avoiding any prodding questions that the Hospital Wing's matron would find fit to ask and finding something to do with his time now that his Hogsmeade visitation rights have been revoked on top of the probation he's been placed on for the rest of the year.

Some people may find it harsh, but to Jade, it's something of a kindness--it's more than what he deserves after what he's done. It may not have been by his hands that Professor Nebilim had died, but it's a fact that she wouldn't have _had_ to if he had not let his arrogance get the better of him. Expulsion would've been more than welcome, in all honesty--but all the same, stained as he was, those who thought of him as their responsibility are shielding him. From the dangers that lurk outside the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, and from the curious and judging stares sure to greet him as he reappears from an unusual absence. _Teachers_ , he's been told, _have an oathsworn duty to protect their students as parents do_.

It's not a thought that sits well with him, but it's not like he's about to forget it--considering they were the last words to come out of Gelda Nebilim's mouth before she smiled and disappeared into the darkness, staining the forest floor with blood and death.

He shakes his head, as if hoping the gesture would help in chasing the memory away as he assembles the ingredients for a healing draught. As an afterthought, he also picks up the materials needed for a potion meant to induce dreamless sleep, knowing that if yesterday night was merely an introduction of what's to come and visit him in his dreams, then he ought to be prepared for the nights to come.

* * *

"Aren't you cold over there, Jade?"

"No, sir." Jade doesn't look up from the cauldron he is stirring, merely hanging his head slightly to acknowledge Slughorn entering the classroom to check up on him.

With the onset of winter, the dungeons are usually cold, biting reminders of their old purposes. However, the fire under the cauldron is warm, and the fumes rising from the heated potion are plentiful, causing the immediate area to be warmer than usual. All the same, Jade tugs down at the cuffs of his sleeves, mentally cursing the fact that there wasn't enough time to do so before Slughorn entered the room.

If Slughorn has noticed anything about the rope burns that've decorated his wrists or the nature of the potion that's been stored and capped away, he doesn't remark on it. There's only approving nods as he checks on the sleeping potion that Jade is brewing, then something of a clap as he sees it turn the color it's supposed to.

"Marvelous!" He beams at Jade. "As expected of my favorite potions prodigy!"

Jade's smile is polite. "Only because I have such an excellent teacher, sir."

Slughorn chuckles. "What a flatterer you are at this age. But that's good, it'll get you far." His gaze falls on the simmering potion, cupping a hand to his chin. "If I may ask, is the potion for you?"

A small pause follows, hesitant on Jade's end.

"...Yes."

He says as he lowers the heat below the cauldron. There really wasn't much reason for him to lie on this front, given that the news about Professor Nebilim's death would've spread through the school by now. He doesn't know what version of his involvement has been shared to the student population, but the teachers are likely to know better in that regard given his probation.

Slughorn's expression turns solemn, a faraway look in his eyes as his gaze drifts off to the window. "...Gelda was a brilliant witch."

Jade sucks in a breath, mouth drawn in a thin line as he tries to keep a certain surge of emotion in his chest down as he prepares to extinguish the cauldron fire. He's not ready for this discussion, yet he can't help but listen, frozen in morbid fascination as to what Slughorn might have to say with regard to the teacher he adored, but barely knew.

"Never saw anyone handier with transfiguration as her, though Minerva might want to have a word with me if she overhead that." He chuckles again. "Talented for her age, but never let it get to her head. Also an encyclopedia on legs, she certainly was. Not surprising since she did come from a respected family of scholars! Always had a knack for teaching the young ones in her school years. I'm surprised she didn't go back to teach at once, but I guess I can't blame her. That ambition of hers makes me wonder why she's never gotten sorted into my house!" A wistful look overcomes him. "Got a high-ranking and important job down at the Ministry, the last time I heard, before she came to teach here..."

"...I'm sorry, Professor. But I have to go."

Jade is surprised to find his hand shaking as he points his wand at his cauldron and begins transferring the liquid into several flasks. In his haste, he spills some of the still warm liquid into his forearm, and it's only by nature of not being inclined to doing so that he doesn't swear, merely biting down a wince as he gathers all of his belongings.

"...Jade."

He pauses midway through his task of packing, though he doesn't look back at Slughorn as he resumes stashing away the items around his table.

"Potions can carry you through many difficult experiences. However, love and friendship are still the most potent ones I've ever encountered in all my years of potion-making. Do not forget that."

"...Thank you for the advice, Professor."

Not trusting himself to speak any further than that, Jade banishes his cauldron and exits the classroom, carefully bringing along his things and mulling upon some unexpected food for thought as he takes familiar steps back to Ravenclaw Tower.

* * *

"Jade… what is that?"

Before Jade could deign Peony's statement with a response, he's already lifted his right hand, causing his sleeve to slide down to reveal telltale rope marks that haven't quite healed yet. Jade's quick to retract his hand, tugging down his sleeve as he averts his gaze. He draws in a quick breath, trying not to make it too evident that the contact has left him more rattled than it should've and busies himself with picking up the transfiguration book that has fallen off the couch they were sharing.

"It's--"

"-- _not_ nothing," Peony says, and Jade doesn't have to look to know that eyes are being narrowed at him that moment.

 

For a long while, Jade doesn't dare to respond, using the time to regain his bearings before he dares to look at Peony. As he's predicted, it takes all of his self-control not to flinch at the intensity of Peony's gaze and to meet it head on with a cool one of his own.

"And if I insist it isn't?"

"I'd say you're a bloody liar."

The pronouncement is followed by a crease of a brow, that in the name of what Jade recognizes to be concern.

"...I thought you were just asked to testify regarding what happened. Blimey, I--what did _they_ do to you?"

"Something you or Jasper should not concern yourselves with."

" _Jade._ " Peony's tone is stern, and he looks like he's about to grab him by the shoulders to force an answer out of him, but thinks better of it and opts to just scratch the side of his head in frustration. "...Damn it!"

Jade responds with silence, though his quiet gratefulness for Peony choosing not to pursue that line of action and thought is rather short-lived given the next set of things to come out of his mouth.

"Have you at least gone to the Hospital Wing for that?"

After a brief consideration of his options, Jade shakes his head, not really trusting his ability to form words in terms of giving away things he'd rather not be thrown into harsh light.

"Why not?!" A flash of anger crosses Peony's face, and it's only by virtue of knowing Peony so well that Jade doesn't shrink at it, meeting it evenly with a calm expression of his own.

"I'm perfectly capable of brewing my own healing potions."

Peony doesn't look too convinced by it, to which Jade sighs as he refrains from pressing a hand to his temple in mild exasperation."You'd rather I bothered Madam Pomfrey with matters I could take care of on my own?"

"Yes!" Peony replies almost immediately. "She can do that and check for other things! Jade, if you won't tell me what's going on, at least get yourself checked out!"

Amidst the heat of rage is a small plea in his glance, which Jade stares down cooly.

"I believe that's not necessary when I've been taking good care of myself."

"Hell no you aren't." This time, Peony leans over and brushes off some hair from his face, sharp blue piercing tired red with its intensity. "You haven't been sleeping well."

"...Do I have a reason to?" Jade says quietly.

And that, more than his attempts to argue earlier, is enough to render Peony silent. Jade takes the opportunity to lower the other's hands, pushing up his glasses as he turns away and leans against the back of the couch. Once more, he busies himself with his book on Advanced Transfiguration, reading words that don't quite enter his head. While Peony doesn't know the intricacies of the multiple alternate outcomes that Jade has painted inside his mind nor of a certain ordeal overlaps with it and has made its way into his dreams, it doesn't take a Legilimency expert to know of Jade's attachment to Professor Nebilim, especially when one has spent this much time around him as Peony and Jasper have. He supposes that's what is occupying Peony's mind that moment, and he's more than satisfied to have things that way...

...At least until Peony wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close. Initially, Jade tenses at the surprise contact, then sighs helplessly as he's forced to lean his head against Peony's shoulder, trying not to cringe too much when his still healing shoulder bumps lightly against Peony's chest.

"....Peony," Jade says, setting aside the book for the moment, "what are you up to?"

Peony runs a hand lazily down his arm, sending a shiver down his spine. "Helping you relax."

Another sigh escapes him, but he doesn't make a move to push Peony's hand away as he works on opening Jade's now curled hand. "We cannot stay overnight in the Room of Requirement, if you must remember."

"I know, I know," he says, pressing his fingers firmly against Jade's palm, "but we still have about an hour or two until bedtime."

Despite Jade's reservations on the matter, his next breath comes out with a note of satisfaction to it, hard-pressed not to enjoy the knots of stress coming undone as Peony continues with his massage.

"Get some rest, Jade. Don't worry, I'll wake you up when it's time to go."

Jade, much to his own surprise, finds himself not needing a further invitation, and it's not too long before he finds himself closing his eyes, allowing Peony's hand to slowly lead him into the much elusive land of sleep.


End file.
